


Threadbare

by Sacrulen



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 11:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15169484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sacrulen/pseuds/Sacrulen
Summary: Lyon has unspoken pleasures.





	Threadbare

Lyons fingers were like thread around a sword, and even worse around something heavier. When Eirika beat him in a spar she sent his rapier clattering to the ground with a clash that he did not know the slim sword was capable of. A deep cut seeped on his hand, proof of his spectacular defeat. 

Eirika fretted, even Ephraim stood over Lyon and watched with concern as Eirika took his hand and bandaged it as best she could. The pain faded, the cut healed, but a scar remained. White and thin, barely visible against his pale complexion, but ever proof of a humiliating defeat. 

There were books in the library about form, how to hold a sword, how to fight with it and where to strike, and Lyon had poured over them before their spar, but it was little help. Ephraim told him afterwards, like the thought had been bothering him all evening, “you’re so timid with a weapon in your hand, try and be more confident and you won’t get injured next time.”

Of course Ephraim would never talk about Lyon winning. He was ever the realist. 

The only place Lyon ever felt more capable than his friend was before a book. Ephraim struggled every time they were in the library. It was like he was forced into a cage, shackled down with his freedoms taken away from him. He complained and scratched his head and reread the same page thrice over before complaining again. 

It would be twisted to say that Lyon liked it. He would never admit that he forced back smiles every time Ephraim struggled. They weren’t happy smiles, more like smugness bubbling up that he was unable to fully hide. Ephraim never noticed anyway, hands scratching through unbrushed hair as he stared at the page trying desperately to retain something. 

Lyon was like a mother, though he resented that he thought of himself like that. He cooed and soothed Ephraim with a hand on his back and a finger following the words on the page as he read them out in his soft tones. If they weren’t in the library he would no doubt be drowned out just by the natural noise. But it was quiet here. Ephraim was listening. He leaned into Lyon a little, maybe without even realising it, and slowly began to ask questions. 

“You’re really starting to understand this,” Lyon had told him, and Ephraim had shrugged. 

“It just makes so much more sense when I hear you read it. Can you do this stuff Father Macgregor set too?”

And Lyon smiled again, standing to drag the heavy volume of magvel history towards the both of them. “Of course I can,” he said. You’d be useless without me, he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this on a train and found it in my phone notes and thought i may as well share


End file.
